Coming Home
by Miss-Murdered
Summary: Makoto returns home after ten years away and needs a moment alone with Haru. PWP.


Disclaimer: I don't own Free!

Pairings/Warnings: MakoHaru, m/m sex, some bad language, light angst, PWP

A/N: Originally written for the MakoHaru festival on tumblr for the prompt "out-grown". Beta'd by ELLE who gets a big thanks for being super speedy and beta'ing outside her fandom.

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**Coming Home**

The tie was pulled sharply from his neck, the knot undone with swift fingers and the material slid from his throat, falling to the floor. Makoto noticed it but he was more focused on the mouth on his, the tongue wrestling with his own and the body pushing him up against the door of his childhood bedroom. He could hear the party downstairs for his sister's engagement, his parents and their guests and of course, Ran and her husband to be and all their friends but right now, he was only interested on Haru and getting him out of his clothes.

It had been years since he'd seen Haru – Makoto having moved to the city, studying to become a lawyer, living there once he qualified – as he knew, unlike Haru, he had no real shot of swimming much beyond school so he gave up that dream. He supposed he'd outgrown it and with it, he guessed he outgrew Haru who remained in Iwatobi, who began coaching swimming when his own career in the sport stalled and yet even though Makoto had left, had moved on, his heart still hammered when he thought of his boyhood crush. Yet Haru was more than that.

He was the first person Makoto had fallen for, the first person Makoto had kissed, tentatively, unsure, their lips sliding together and Haru was the first person who'd touched him, who'd blown him, who he'd fucked and who had fucked him. Haru was his entire teenage years and now, as adults, despite the distance of years, Makoto still wanted him.

He still wanted him as he kissed Haru hard, threaded his fingers through that black hair, slid his hand underneath Haru's shirt to his firm waist and pulled him tighter to his body, grinding instinctively as though it hadn't been ten years since they had last done this together. It seemed like yesterday as Haru's lips left his to nip and kiss at his earlobe, his fingers undoing the buttons on Makoto's shirt with rushed impatience and Makoto moaned as he pinched nipples once they were exposed, his cock hardening further in response.

Haru was urgent, insistent – different to how they'd been when they were teenagers, when Makoto had been the one to urge, to insist but then Makoto didn't care as his shirt hung loose from his shoulders and Haru had fallen to his knees in front of him, undoing the belt and unbuttoning the suit pants he'd worn for the occasion.

It was difficult for him to breath as he looked down, saw Haru there and he knew with a little guilty feeling that he'd spent the years since he left Iwatobi finding another Haru – men with dark hair and blue eyes and a perfect body – but none had ever measured up to him. And each relationship had failed miserably as they weren't Haru. They weren't the one who was sliding his boxers down his thighs and taking his cock, wet at the tip, into his mouth, slipping his fingers to his balls and teasing him, touching him, sucking on him, making his head hit the door behind him.

As a finger teased, the intention clear, Makoto moaned, trying to be quiet as he was aware that his parents and the party was on the other side of the door and while he was no longer a teenager, he still didn't want them to walk in on them fucking.

He pulled Haru up, his big hands holding his face, touching the hair that felt as soft as he remembered. "There's lube and condoms in the old place."

Haru smiled, that small smile he remembered that made his heart stop and he shook his head. "Your mother never found it?"

"No," Makoto replied with a little chuckle as he did his best to move a bookcase a bit over the door to stop anyone from potentially barging in. "I guess she never thought of looking there."

He shrugged off his shirt as Haru retrieved them, hidden underneath the right hand top side of the mattress and considering Makoto's room had been left as it had always been – as though his parents were waiting for him to return – it had not been discovered and Makoto had found it funny as he saw it there, the first night back in his bed, and remembered Haru.

He had remembered all the times in this room, the times they rushed to quickly fuck each other, quietly, so that the twins didn't wake up or his parents didn't discover them and he'd jerked himself off to the memories. He hadn't expected he'd get a replay, another chance with Haru so when he watched him strip, his body even more incredible than Makoto remembered, he only stared until he regained enough brain cells to walk over and reach out his hand to run it down those abdominal muscles, sliding down to his cock, hard for him, and Makoto pumped, running his thumb over the slit and slicking the pre-cum over the head. Haru's head fell forward onto Makoto's shoulder in response, his breath hitching against his skin.

"I missed this," Makoto said as he heard Haru's little gasps and moans – and he didn't say "you" as you was too significant, too much – and instead he continued his strokes until Haru grabbed his wrist, stopping him and they fumbled their way to the bed.

Years had passed since a moment like this but somehow it all seemed like none had passed at all. As they kissed, Haru slid sure fingers inside him, his knowledge of his body as it had always been – they'd had enough practice as teens – and Makoto felt like he always had. A feeling of awe towards Haru, a feeling of need and want that he couldn't deny as he lay on the bed, Haru between his legs, his fingers thrusting inside him while a hand lovingly stroked his cock.

They had fucked in every way imaginable and experienced everything first together and as Haru slid inside, it felt right, like coming home and Makoto reached for his biceps and shoulders, holding on as he adjusted, preparing himself for their frantic movements.

And frantic it needed to be – hard, fast, though silent – Haru leaning over him, his lips at his throat as he thrust into Makoto's pliant body. He pushed back, down, into Haru, the bed creaking underneath them despite their attempts to be quiet and Makoto didn't care. Didn't care about how they'd ended up apart as now they were together and it was perfect and right. Makoto felt like he was clinging on desperately, his fingers deep in the skin of Haru's shoulders as his hips pumped forward at an unrelenting rhythm, pounding him into the mattress.

His dick, trapped between their bodies, rubbed against Haru's stomach and the combined feeling of that and Haru's cock deep inside him, made him feel close, so good, so close…

"Haru," he said, drawing out his name and Haru lifted his face from where it had buried in Makoto's skin, leaning down for open-mouthed kisses, tongues twining.

The kiss captured all their moans as Haru's thrusts hit prostate again and again, until Makoto could do nothing but ride the wave of climax, cum splashing between them and his own release spurring on Haru, a few long hard slides in and out all it took for him to come, breathless, into their kiss.

Haru didn't move off Makoto's body – instead, they lay sticky and close, sliding hands through sweaty hair and exchanging little kisses.

In that moment, Haru on top of him, softening inside him, Makoto realised though he'd thought they'd outgrown each other, their lives gone separate ways, he'd always have a place in his heart for the boy who'd loved to swim.

And while his visit was fleeting and the engagement party was happening downstairs, all he wanted to do was spend the rest of his return to Iwatobi with Haru and nothing else.


End file.
